


will your mouth read this truth

by karasunonolibero



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pining, but it's mostly, that too, the tiniest bits of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 03:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20037220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunonolibero/pseuds/karasunonolibero
Summary: Azumane Asahi learns there's no such thing as a perfect kiss at the age of twelve, when his friend runs up to him on their way to lunch like he has a big secret.He’s sixteen years old when he first lays eyes on the human hurricane that is Nishinoya Yuu.He is eighteen years old when he learns that kisses can, in fact, be perfect.





	will your mouth read this truth

**Author's Note:**

> i just can't stay away from this pairing ahhhh!!! i was thinking about kisses and this just...happened. 
> 
> thank you SO much to chas for beta'ing this for me at like 1am
> 
> and the title is from little bird by ed sheeran.

There is no such thing as a perfect kiss.

Azumane Asahi learns this at the age of twelve, when his friend runs up to him on their way to lunch like he has a big secret.

“What do you want, Riku?” Asahi asks, stopping by a vending machine to buy himself a carton of milk.

Riku’s eyes shine with mischief as he leans in to whisper in Asahi’s ear. “I kissed Haruko yesterday.”

Asahi almost drops the milk carton. “You did? When?”

“After school behind the gym, before volleyball practice.”

Asahi’s eyes widen in realization. “You said you were going to fill your water bottle!”

“Yeah, well.” Riku grins. “I did, but I also kissed Haruko.”

Asahi pauses for a minute, half concentrating on sticking the straw into the carton and half wondering what a real kiss is like. Is it like in the movies, with the sun shining overhead and petals blowing in the breeze? Is it really so magical and perfect? “Was it nice?”

Riku nods, then shakes his head, then shrugs. “It was kind of weird. Kissing is, like…wet.”

Asahi pretends to gag. “That’s gross!”

“But she was pretty, so I guess it was okay.” Riku smiles, and Asahi wonders why movie kisses are always so magical when real ones, clearly, are just wet and weird.

~

His own first kiss is also wet and weird, and…pretty disappointing, if he’s being completely honest. It’s not her fault. She’s short, with dark hair brushing her shoulders and pretty brown eyes, and quite attractive overall. And it’s just…not what he expected, even with the knowledge it would be wet and weird. After she kisses him, she smiles shyly and then runs away, leaving Asahi to walk into volleyball practice in a daze.

At least they’re in different classes, so avoiding her is easy. After that, Azumane Asahi doesn’t kiss anyone else for a long time.

~

He’s sixteen years old when he first lays eyes on the human hurricane that is Nishinoya Yuu.

Nishinoya, along with four other first-years, stand in the Karasuno High School gymnasium, all of them clutching their club applications with varying degrees of apprehension. Nishinoya is on the low end of that scale. He declares his name and his junior high, and tells him he was their libero.

The captain nods in recognition. “You won the Best Libero award, didn’t you?”

Nishinoya grins. “That was me!”

The thing about Nishinoya is that he’s not much, when you first look at him. He’s barely pushing five-foot-three, and all of his shirts are little big on him, which makes him look about twelve years old. But his eyes are sharp, smile loud, and voice confident, all of which makes Asahi’s tummy a little warm, and Asahi has a feeling that Nishinoya Yuu is going to be great.

~

In the spring, they lose a match to Date Tech without taking a single set. The scoreboard, reading 25–15, taunts Asahi as they shake hands with Date Tech’s players and then trudge off to catch their bus back to school. The ride back is quiet, for the most part. Their setter Sugawara is curled up, staring out the window, while his boyfriend Daichi tries to talk to him, but Sugawara just pouts and shuts him out. Even their captain has nothing to say.

Asahi doesn’t dare look at Nishinoya, who’s sitting next to him. The memories of that match are going to haunt him, he already knows. Jumping up, arm cocked back for a spike, only to see three pairs of hands looming in front of him, blocking his path, like thick, gnarled tree limbs growing together and blotting out the sunlight. The sharp _ba-bam_ sound of the ball hitting the blockers’ hands and then the floor less than a second later. Nishinoya, sprawled out on his stomach just behind him, smacking a fist into the wood floor in frustration as he gets back to his feet and spits out a curse before calling out that he’ll get the next one.

The sinking feeling in his stomach when he realized he doesn’t deserve his title anymore.

The silence turns to tension after they disperse from their last team meeting. The juniors insist on staying back and practicing, saying they have to learn from this for next year—their captain doesn’t deny them the extra time. Asahi knows they want to stay on the court for just a little longer. Nishinoya had said something about it to him just that morning on the way to their game.

“That’s where I feel my best,” Noya had said, resting his head against the window and tilting to look at Asahi. “Out there, I feel like I can do anything, and the things I can’t do, I want to learn how. The longer I stay out there, the better I get. I don’t care how many bruises I get or how long the rally goes. I just want to be the best I can be.”

The words echo in his mind as declines the extra practice to sit on the sidelines. He watches Sugawara set to Daichi while Tanaka blocks, and then they switch. Noya is on the ground, digging up as many balls as he can.

Sugawara turns to him, beckoning him over. “Asahi, come on, don’t you want to play, too?”

“No.” He’s not just declining this practice. After disgracing his title of the ace of Karasuno, he’s not sure he wants to play ever again.

When they’ve finally decided to call it a night, they disperse to start cleaning up. Sugawara, Tanaka, and Nishinoya grab mops to wipe the floor; Daichi runs around collecting stray balls, leaving Asahi to tidy up the equipment room. He might be useless on the court but at least he can help a little bit.

He mills around in there, moving the ball carts around until the rest of them come back. They all look tired, but in slightly better spirits—they know they have next year. Nishinoya, however, looks like he’s a second away from snapping, his face an unreadable mask of tension.

And then he does.

“Shit!” Nishinoya slams the mop against the wall, fists clenched. It clatters to the ground, but he doesn’t move to pick it up.

“Nishinoya…” Daichi warns, but Noya ignores him.

“I couldn’t retrieve a single blocked ball,” he hisses, voice catching in his throat.

And then Asahi realizes why he’s so upset. “You think this is your fault?” he retorts, turning around to face Noya, but is only met with the back of his t-shirt. “Why won’t you blame me? I’m the one who couldn’t get a spike through! You wouldn’t have had to save any balls if I just made them count! I’m the reason we lost!”

“Asahi!” Daichi shouts, but he’s drowned out by Noya shouting back and grabbing at his shirt as they continue to argue. Surprised, he stumbles backward, foot coming down on the mop that Nishinoya dropped. The wooden handle splits in two with a crack like a gunshot, and that’s the slap back to reality.

“I kept the ball in play for you! And you gave it up!” Noya’s still yelling as Tanaka drags him back.

Asahi can’t move, can’t speak, too shocked at the aggressiveness from the friend who’d never so much as raised his voice at him until now. “Lay off, Nishinoya!” Sugawara snaps, his usually easygoing tone going sharp.

Nishinoya takes a breath and seems to calm down, just for a second. “I don’t care how many of your spikes don’t get through. I’m not gonna blame you for that. But you gave up and that’s something I can’t forgive.”

Asahi can’t stay here. He’s got to leave. Noya won’t forgive him, and if the one person he always though would won’t, then there’s no way the rest of the team will. He pushes past Noya, past Tanaka, past Sugawara and Daichi. They call after him, but he keeps walking and steps out of the gym, determined never to set foot in that place again.

Even if it means he’ll never see Nishinoya Yuu again.

~

The strangest feeling is the one that he’s disappointed Noya.

_You gave up and that’s something I can’t forgive._

“Asahi-san.”

He looks up to see the libero standing in front of him in the hallway just outside his classroom. Nishinoya’s eyes are angry, brows slanted as he stares Asahi down. “Why weren’t you at club this morning? You know the Interhigh tournament starts right after the new school year.”

“What’s the point? It’s not fun anymore.” God, he’s the fucking worst at lying, but he does it anyway. Better to let Noya think he doesn’t love the game instead of the truth that he just gave up. “You must be frustrated having to dive for my blocked balls all the time, and I know Sugawara feels bad putting balls up that I can’t make count, and—”

“I don’t give a _shit_ what the others think!”

Asahi turns around and walks away. He can hear the vice principal leave his office to tell Noya to be quiet. Noya shouts not to be touched, and then there’s the crash of glass breaking.

Asahi almost feels bad that he doesn’t turn back around, even when Nishinoya shouts after him again.

“Don’t you want to make a spike count one more time?”

~

The next school year begins, Asahi begins his third and final year of high school, and he doesn’t return to the club. No, instead he buries himself in schoolwork and dutifully goes to his career counselor to plan for his future after high school. He swears he doesn’t miss volleyball, and he swears even harder that he doesn’t miss Nishinoya.

He doesn’t miss Nishinoya, because why would Nishinoya miss _him_? He’s just a failed ace, a blocked spiker who couldn’t do the one job he had. Noya shouldn’t miss him.

But he does come back, eventually, after two plucky first-years remind him why he loves volleyball so much and Daichi assures him that he’d be welcomed back. And so, with some trepidation, he creeps up to the gymnasium after school one day, only for a man with bleached hair to poke his head out and yell at him for being late.

Too shocked to do anything but stutter out an apology, Asahi makes his way into the gym. It feels so…normal, is the thing. Being told off for lateness, like he’s been part of the team this whole time.

He stands on the threshold for a second, takes a deep breath, and steps inside.

Just a month ago he’d sworn he’d never set foot in this place again, but here he is. Sugawara smiles and waves at him, and a few of the team members gasp when they see him, but Asahi’s eyes go straight to Noya. The libero just stares at him, countenance stoic. Asahi wonders if the distance and the time means Nishinoya will forgive him now.

But there’s no time to dwell on that—the man who’d yelled at him turns out to be their new coach, and they’re divided into teams to play with the Karasuno neighborhood association. He ends up on a team with Sugawara and Nishinoya; the latter turns to glance at him again, but Asahi looks away.

Even when they’re sharing the court, they don’t talk. Asahi sees Nishinoya chatting with Sugawara in between serves, but he can’t bring himself to go over and do the same. Instead, he turns around to watch the next serve go up, thinking about the last thing Noya said to him.

_Don’t you want to make a spike count one more time?_

“I do,” he says out loud. “I do want to.”

“Huh?” Sugawara asks, but when Asahi turns around and meets Nishinoya’s gaze, he knows Noya knows.

For a second, Nishinoya just stares again, and then he breaks into a smile that puts Asahi’s chest at ease. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

It feels like he’s never left, and damn, does it feel good. No matter how much he tried to tell himself he didn’t miss volleyball, _fuck_, he didn’t quite feel like himself without it. He falls back into it easily, content to feel the solid weight of the ball against his palm, to hear the satisfying sound of a well-placed spike.

To know that Nishinoya is right there behind him to cover his back as best as he can.

“Call for a toss just one more time, ace!” Nishinoya shouts as Sugawara sets, and Asahi’s never felt so good.

~

“Bye, Asahi! See you tomorrow!” Sugawara grins at him as he leaves with Daichi. Asahi slings his bag over his shoulder and heads outside, and that’s when he hears a soft _tch_ sound coming from behind him.

It’s Nishinoya.

“You know, you’re really timid for a third-year wing spiker,” is all he says.

“I’m working on it,” Asahi says sheepishly.

“You should say what you want to say and mean it when you do.”

“I’m…working on that, too.” The conversation is just plain weird, with Noya practically lecturing him with his arms crossed. This isn’t how he imagined their reunion going, if he’s honest. “Nishinoya, I—”

“Save it.” Noya walks right up to him, chin tilted up to look Asahi in the eye. “It’s good to have you back.”

Asahi’s lips quirk in a tiny smile. “It’s good to be back. And I’m glad you’re back, too.”

Nishinoya studies him for a brief second before going on. “I told Daichi-san and Suga-san that I wouldn’t come back to a team without you, you know.”

Asahi frowns. “A team needs its libero, Noya.”

“A team needs its ace, too.” Noya’s voice softens then, and he drops his arms. “I…damn it, Asahi-san, I missed you.”

Nishinoya…actually missed him? Asahi takes a minute just to sputter, to try to form words. He has so much he wants to say, is the thing, so much to apologize for and try to make better and _god_, he needs Noya to know that he missed him, too. But none of it comes out, the sounds stuck in his throat as he stares at the much shorter libero.

Noya scoffs again, and grabs the front of Asahi’s jacket, yanking him down. Asahi blinks, and for a second he’s back in the equipment room after the Date Tech game, stepping on that mop handle with Nishinoya shouting in his face.

But he’s outside the gym, under the harsh glow of the lamppost, and Noya’s face isn’t angry, but…it’s something else. Intense, still, but not angry.

It happens faster than Asahi can process it. With a display of strength Asahi’s never seen from him before, Nishinoya drags him down and kisses him hard.

It’s far from a perfect movie kiss. In fact, it’s almost the complete opposite. It’s an awkward angle considering how much shorter Nishinoya is, their teeth clacked when their mouths met, Noya’s mouth tastes like a sports drink, they’re both sweaty and probably smelly from practice—but for Asahi, it’s everything he didn’t realize he thinks of when he thinks of Noya. The boy is a human hurricane, a storm that crashes in and tears you apart with no regard for your current state. It’s only fitting that his kiss is just as chaotic.

He doesn’t know how long it is until Nishinoya finally lets him go. Asahi looks at him in the semi-darkness, sees the pink blush rising on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Asahi-san,” Noya whispers, so softly Asahi almost misses it. He drops his hands, tugging nervously at the hem of his own shirt as he takes a step back; Asahi grabs one wrist to keep him from running away.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, that was stupid and I didn’t think and—”

Asahi is the one who goes in for the kiss this time, pressing his lips to Noya’s to get him to shut up and stop apologizing. Nishinoya looks on the verge of tears when they separate, his usual calm and confident demeanor replaced by—well, by any other shy seventeen-year-old high school kid.

“Don’t apologize,” Asahi tells him, one hand cupping Noya’s chin. “I’ve…sort of been a little bit in love with you for a long time.”

Nishinoya smiles, and it’s like he’s flipped right back to his usual self. “That makes two of us.”

How stupid they both must have been, then, to keep missing signs the way they had. But that’s all in the past now, Asahi thinks as Nishinoya stands up on the balls of his feet for another kiss.

Azumane Asahi is eighteen years old when he learns that kisses can, in fact, be perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! if you feel so inclined, please let me know what you thought in the comments!
> 
> [main blog](http://humhalleloujah.tumblr.com) // [haikyuu!! blog](http://karasunonolibero.tumblr.com)


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